


Spellcast

by Four9s



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Family Drama, Forbbiden Arts, Gen, Mentor Severus Snape, New Magic, Self-Indulgent, Slytherin Harry Potter, Voldemort is Harry Potter's Parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 22:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19913644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four9s/pseuds/Four9s
Summary: In a world where Tom Riddle was born in year 1959, he never became Lord Voldemort until the tragic death of his wife Lilliandra Evans-Riddle. Grief-stricken, he sought for power, immortality and revenge, disturbing the peace and leaving havoc in his wake. As his powers grew, so does the price he has to pay, his soul.Harris Rionach Riddle was left to pick up the broken pieces of his father's soul. Surrounded by hatred from Voldemort's followers and suspicion from the Order of Phoenix, only his promise to his mother kept him from giving up on trying to find the secrets to piecing back together Tom Riddle's mangled soul.





	Spellcast

**Author's Note:**

> I am recently hooked on the Voldemort-Harry parent relationship stories and this fic is purely self-indulgent. This fic was inspired by the story 'True Chosen' and another story of almost the same premise, I just don't remember the title of that story. 
> 
> I am not a professional writer and you might find some grammatical mistakes. (Please tell me so, if you find them, I'll fix them right away)
> 
> Enjoy reading. ;)

> _Today we witness the union in magical matrimony of our newly appointed Minister for Magic, Tom Marvolo Riddle and his newly wedded wife, Potions Mistress Lilliandra Riddle née Evans, here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Without a doubt, the whole of Wizarding Britain was astounded when the most accomplished and sought-after bachelor declared his engagement to our own resident Healer extraordinaire, Lilliandra Evans._
> 
> _“It was unexpected.” Headmaster Albus Dumbledore claimed, “young Tom was never inclined into romance, he was very popular, very charming but he never entertained his admirers too long. His drive as minister made us, his former professors, think that he will never settle down.”_
> 
> _Meanwhile, former Hogwarts Potions Professor Slughorn prides himself that both of his best students are now together in marriage. “It was bound to happen, Headboy Riddle in his year and Headgirl Evans-now Riddle, were my best students in potions. Both bright, both intelligent. Its fate, I tell you.”_
> 
> _Friends, acquaintances, and family attended the joyous occasion. Many had wondered why Minister Riddle and his wife would choose Hogwarts to hold their wedding instead of Riddle Manor in Little Whinging (our Minister^s current residence) which was what most had expected._
> 
> _“It’s home.” Lily Riddle said. “Riddle Manor is beautiful, however, Hogwarts held more meaning in our hearts. We spent too much time here that it had grown on us, it was our beginning. Good thing Tom’s Minister now, I doubt the Headmaster would have allowed us to marry on its grounds. Nevertheless, today’s the best day of my life yet.”_
> 
> _Born in a family of muggles, Lilliandra Lily Evans has proven herself capable, extraordinary and excellent despite being muggle-born. Creating the Divina Illuminatum Charm, a cure for those who had damaged their minds due to the Cruciatus Curse and its side effects which revolutionized the field of MediWizardy for all time. A woman worthy of our own Minister, Tom Marvolo Riddle, who earned his place through hard work and ingenuity. Topping his classes with straight Outstandings, catalysing political advances and furthermore improving relations to other Wizarding communities._
> 
> _Truly a remarkable union. We congratulate both of you and may you live the best of your days._

The boy flipped the page, sighing in exhaustion.

It was a very old headline. Written two years prior to his birth.

Avada Green eyes took one last read before burning the Daily Prophet newspaper to smithereens. He stood up from his armchair and headed towards the library. Feeling unsatisfied and frustrated, he slammed the large oak doors open and began his search again. 

The news was not contributive to the information he was looking for, he’d been looking for months, almost a year to find even a speck of useful information on what could have been the key that made his mother unravel the magic that defied the norms. Lilliandra never revealed the secret to her discovery and every bit of information on it was buried, almost as if it was something that no mortal shall know.

It was as if only Lily could know.

And Death took her because of it.

Searching through tomes and tomes of old information, stacks of parchment and books littered across the area. Hoping to discover something useful he went over to an unused corridor as evidenced by the cobwebs that hang in the ceiling, In one particular shelf, he read through each title hurriedly and when he pulled a book, the ground shook and turned around only to discover a hidden room more dusty and abandoned. He chuckled at the use of muggle means instead of magic to conceal the chamber.

With fire in his veins, he explored the room until he stumbled upon an old full-sized portrait, tucked in the corner, covered in drapes. Curious to what it held, he pulled on the cover to reveal a family.

His family. 

Tom Marvolo Riddle smiled, looking between his wife and his son. His left hand wrapped comfortingly around Lily’s shoulder who held their dear son in her arms. The baby whose eyes he got from his mother twinkled in innocent laughter, his toothless grin making his mother and father chuckle in return. At the edge of the frame it was engraved. 

_ Riddle Heir and his family. _

His eyes turned soft as he stared at the chuckling face of his beautiful mother. Half of her curly red hair tied elegantly behind her head as her green eyes stared at her son with so much love and adoration. She looked as if she was holding the world in her arms. Then the handsome face of his father looked proud, the sleeves of his emerald robes surrounded his new family as if to protect them from harm. He traced the figures on the portrait, his eyes burned with nostalgia.

He remembered what was last written in that article. 

His mother did get to live the best of her days until she got hunted down and killed. Living the last of her days in misery and in pain, while her husband and son watched unable to do anything. When she died, it was with a smile on her face, relieved that her suffering was over not knowing she took the soul of her husband with her. 

Minister Riddle died with his wife, his son orphaned. 

Well, that's what the papers said.

They didn't know that the havoc they call monster, the one threatening the peace, the one they call the most powerful and darkest wizard of all time, the one whose name they fear to speak, was once the most beloved man of Wizarding Britain.

Lord Voldemort.

Tom Riddle.

“I see you’ve stumbled upon that old piece.” He turned to look at the intruder who had curls black as night, a wretched smile on her beautiful face. She was tall and seductive, the thrall of dark magic cloaked her and even if she wasn’t wearing dark robes anyone would know that she was a dark witch, Lord Voldemort’s most trusted and most loyal lieutenant, Bellatrix Black, soon-to-be-but-hopefully-not-stepmother-slash-dark-lordess. 

“How did you get here?” 

Bella smirked. “Thought you could get away from me now do you? My dear, I could find you blindfolded. Odd place by the way, and nasty of course.” She looked at him with scorn and hatred that gleamed in her eyes especially at the portrait.

“I should’ve burnt that one ages ago. It sickens my eyes.” She stalked forward and stopped beside him and mimicked his actions, tracing his mother’s face in mockery. “Your mother really is a pretty thing. Pretty as the dirt beneath my feet, pretty filthy as the mud that runs through her veins, a pretty tarnish on the Dark Lord’s otherwise perfect name.”

He glared at her, she was trying to get a rise out of him this he knew. But It was one thing to talk about him, it was another when it comes to his mother.

“My father loved her. More than he could ever love you, he sees you as a pawn, nothing more.”

She snickered. “Your father is dead, dear. Along with the mudblood wretch. The man right now isn’t your father, yours could never compare. Lord Voldemort has no heir, he doesn’t need one.” She smirked. “He’s immortal. You were born just to be one of his soldiers, even if you died he won’t care.”

He smirked in return. “You’re right. I forget, that snakeman isn’t my father, my father wouldn’t have done any of what he’s doing now. It makes me sick to think that the great Tom Riddle reduced to looking less and less human, more and more a monster that the world is painting him to be. He’s perfect, a perfect pathetic excuse of a lord gallivanting around the world throwing tantrums like a child.” It took all his self-restraint to not spit at her. “He was not a father to me. My father died the day my mother closed her eyes and took her last breath.”

“You dare!” She shrieked, the smirk quick to disappear from her face. “You are not worthy of uttering his name! You do not deserve to inherit his blood! Yours is spoiled! Rotten! Vile!” Bellatrix raised her hand a wand on her grip, her lips itching for a spell.

“Crucio”

He dodged the red light and the spell hit the books behind him. Scorched papers and worn leather flew. He glanced at her, she looked murderous.

“Auntie Bella, he will never see you for who you are, will never return the adoration and worship you’re giving him. You’re a beloved pawn, you will be cast down the moment he’ll find no use for you.”

Bellatrix’s shoulders shook, she regained some of her composure but her eyes still held the contempt. “Better a beloved pawn, as long as I am useful I’ll never be cast aside.” She ran her hands through her curly locks. “At least, I’m not you. You’ve been cast away by the figure you call your father, you’re a ghost who continues to haunt the Dark Lord.”

He rolled his eyes, “Tell me something I don’t know.” Bella never failed to remind him about this everyday and he is sick of it. He was about to retort when suddenly the loud crack of apparition drowned the words about to leave his mouth. He turned his head only to come face to face with the one and only Lord Voldemort. He muttered a silent 'Speak of the devil' under his breath. He wasn't surprised that the Dark Lord would find this place, considering he owned Slytherin Palace. When he heard the sound of clothes beside him, he doesn't need to turn his head to know that Bella was down on her knees, prostrating herself on the feet of her lord. 

Looking at the Dark Lord, he knew that something had changed yet again. His eyes that were once a warm dark brown was now as fiery red as the Cruciatus Curse and his skin paler, bordering white. Right now, the Dark Lord's hair was thinning. He was very tempted to comment but held his tongue.  _ 'The last change happened about 7 months ago when I last saw him, what's next? Slits for nostrils?' _ Regardless, in exchange for his looks Voldemort's powers hummed, greater and deadlier. 

"Lunch has passed, and I was wondering-" Voldemort looked in his direction, "why you weren't present. I have just returned from my journey in Albania and haven't received a welcome from you, Harris." Voldemort ignored Bella as he walked, 'more like gilded' towards his direction when he saw the portrait he stopped. His eyes narrowed looking between him and the portrait.

"Is this what you've been doing?" Voldemort asked him with a hint of anger. "I've heard from Bella and Lucius that you weren't doing well in school, barely passing the most basic. Severus says you are atrocious at Potions." 

He huffed. "I'm doing my best."

The Dark Lord hissed and his hands burned. Tears started gathering from the corner of his eye and bit his lip to contain the scream that fought to breakout. Bella was shaking, while it may look like she was shaking in fear, it was without a doubt that she was shaking in contained glee.

"Do not lie to me, Harris." After a second the burn died down and Bella’s scream followed.

'"AHHHHHH!" 

"W-why my L-lord, I'm your m-most f-faithful?" She asked, her eyes glistened with unshed tears before turning to glare in his direction.

“Did I not tell you to keep a good eye on Harris, Bella? Throwing Unforgivables wasn’t included in my instruction.” Lord Voldemort’s face didn’t even show any change and yet the atmosphere was heavier.

“He needs to learn his place, M-Master.” She quivered, “ He insulted you, your servant only wants to teach him h-his plac-e.” 

“His punishments are mine to give.” At once, the air shifted and Lord Voldemort turned his back on them. “Come, both of you, lunch would get cold.”

Bellatrix quickly stood up and acted as if she wasn’t punished, she even looked delighted that her Lord had invited her. He rolled his eyes still clutching over his wounded hand, the pain he had got used to a long time ago. It wasn’t the worst. He silently followed but stopped suddenly when the portrait behind him burst into flames. He stood there in shock as the flames quickly devoured the faces of his family before everything that happened.

“And Harris, I don’t want you coming back here. Focus on your education.” Voldemort’s voice echoed, his tone devoid of any emotion.

He looked at the ashes as if they were what remained of his father. Closer and closer to insanity, always desperate, always too far. The last words of his mother rang in his head.

_ “Harry, dear, I’m going to go soon and I won’t be able to take care of you anymore or your dad. Darling, promise me to take care of your dad when Mummy’s gone alright? He looks like he’ll be needing it more than you. Tom’s always been like that. Don’t forget to be good, and value life. I love you Harry, always.” _

His memory at that time was fuzzy but he could never forget that he did promise he’d take care of his father. Which he might add should be the total opposite, but did it matter? He never broke any promises. He knows he’ll find it, he just needs more time. His mother found magic in impossible circumstances. She won’t be the last. 

_ There has been no methods to heal and bring back the pieces of a soul together except through remorse, and then comes death. _ Professor Potter’s words meant nothing. Lily Evans-Riddle spat on impossibilities, Harris Rionach Riddle will make Fate and Death bend. 

He’ll fix his dad’s soul. He’d die trying.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear about what you thought of my fic. Comment down below if you wish, (I might not reply but I do love reading them). 
> 
> No bashing, only good criticism that could improve the story.


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